


I am Roscoe

by Starrie_Wolf



Series: #LoveWins Challenge [2]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV), Transformers - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fusion, M/M, Puppy Love, Snark
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-09
Updated: 2015-07-09
Packaged: 2018-04-08 11:48:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 643
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4303794
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Starrie_Wolf/pseuds/Starrie_Wolf
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“If you get bodily fluids over my upholstery again, I will ram every single red light down the street right in front of all the traffic cameras.”</p><p>
  <i>Prompt: Huge robots!</i>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	I am Roscoe

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Ze_Momonster](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ze_Momonster/gifts).



> Have a [Skittles GIF](http://bleep0bleep.tumblr.com/post/122973349115/it-is-a-beautiful-vision-dont-ruin-the-vision).

It was no secret that Stiles loved his Jeep. Not a single day passed without him mentioning it _somewhere_ in conversation, even if it was just a throwaway comment like, “Gotta take Roscoe to the shop later, the clutch’s acting up again.”

Lots of other people treat their vehicles like sentient beings, though, and so this quirk was swept under the rug like Stiles’ various other eccentricities.

~*~*~*~*~

“I do not ‘ _act up_ ’.”

“Hey, man, I’m sorry.” Stiles held up his hands placatingly, one leg bouncing up and down restlessly on the floor. “I had to say _something_ to get out of the meeting. You know me. My brain-to-mouth filter just doesn’t kick in some times.”

The engine growled and sputtered, and Stiles would have been legitimately been worried about whether or not his trusty old Jeep was going to break down if, you know, it had been a legitimate _Jeep_ in the first place. He hadn’t quite figured out what Roscoe _was_ yet. Despite the staggering amount of urban myths on the Internet, somehow typing “my car can turn into a giant robot” into Google never turned up anything _useful_. Roscoe himself didn’t know either, given that half his memory banks were smashed beyond repair when Stiles found him in the second-hand car shop all those years ago.

And the Pack wondered how he could stand Derek’s grumpiness – well, Stiles had had a _lot_ of practice. Not that he would ever dare to tell Roscoe that; the Jeep always got back at him. And Sheriff Stilinski was all kinds of awesome, okay, but he couldn’t very well say, “Well, Dad, I wasn’t actually illegally parking – my Jeep kind of did it on his own?”

He tuned back into the grumbling just in time to hear the tail end of it. “… and _canoodling_ in my backseat, no respect for the upholstery –”

“Hey! We were just making out!”

His seat shook threateningly, and Stiles yelped and grabbed the steering wheel in both hands. “Is _that_ what you organics call that faceplate-to-faceplate activity? You looked like your interface panels were about to start popping off any moment!”

Well, Stiles couldn’t exactly refute that, but in his defence, he was a teenager. All those hormones came with the territory – but, again, Roscoe wouldn’t understand that. Did giant car-robot-transformers even _have_ hormones? His mouth opened and closed for a moment as he tried to parse his explanation into actual words.

“Well, have you ever been with someone that made your engines rev? Make those interface panels want to, uh, pop off? I can’t help it, okay?”

His seat buzzed under him and the clutch shook slightly. “Well,” Roscoe began waspishly, “I wouldn’t _know_ , given that all my memory databanks are offline and your little backwater planet doesn’t even _produce_ any of the raw materials required to repair them.”

Shit. Stiles winced, running a hand apologetically down the dashboard. Way to go, Stilinski. Remind a stranded alien of his (possibly permanent at this rate) amnesia, why don’t you.

He opened his mouth to say something, but the door jiggled open at that instant and he shut it again.

Scott grinned at him as he climbed in, tossing his bag into the backseat. “Hi Stiles, hi Roscoe. Thanks for the ride, I really appreciate it.” He patted the dashboard.

The radio made a series of chirruping beeps, Roscoe’s equivalent of an expression of gratitude.

“Hey! Why does Scott get a _hello_ , but I get yelled at? He was just as guilty as I was!”

Scott laughed, and leaned over the gear shift to peck Stiles on the lips.

“ _If you get bodily fluids over my upholstery again, I will ram every single red light down the street right in front of all the traffic cameras._ ”

“That was the _one_ time! It’s not like Derek _wanted_ to be bleeding to death!”

**Author's Note:**

> [I have a Tumblr if you're interested!](starriewolf.tumblr.com)


End file.
